


These tears are not weakness, but sweet drops of love. You are home with me, our days will be so happy.

by thatsjustHoneyDewbabe



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 8 yrs after the epilogue, Adoption, Canon Compliant, Family, Father-Daughter Relationship, Getting Together, Keith is a Good Parent, Light Angst, M/M, Oblivious Keith (Voltron), Orphanage, Pining Shiro (Voltron), Post-Divorce, Single Parent Keith (Voltron), i have a strong desire for regris to use his tail for like jump rope or something, might make all bom alive idk yet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2019-10-27 19:57:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17773280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatsjustHoneyDewbabe/pseuds/thatsjustHoneyDewbabe
Summary: After the end of the great war, Keith finds himself satisfied with his life, happily busy with humanitarian work. With his heart healed from heartbreak, he's decides that he prefers having his space wolf by his side, rather than another person. On the evening of the eighth annual paladin group dinner, he excuses himself early to run a small errand for an orphanage on the outskirts of the capital. He's done missions like these before, countless times.But this time, he spots a bony Altean child, with an unruly mop of black hair and eyes the same shade as his, quietly reading a book to herself.And it all changes from there.





	1. Take me to where you are, passing through time, my heart unravels

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome!! Noil is pronounced as no-ill! Not like foil.

His newly assigned project is easy. Keith’s been on a solo mission to deliver food and materials to an orphanage in the rural area of Altea. He embarks on it during the yearly dinner he has with the other paladins. The dinners used to give him butterflies in his stomach, now they’ve grown stale. If Pidge and Lance hadn’t given him an earful, he would have skipped this year’s reunion. So he went. For exactly sixty minutes, then he excuses himself.

 

It’s a legitimate reason to leave, but with shaky… _suspicious_ timing. Hunk’s frown hands him guilt. Shiro’s entire being convinces him to put off Hunk’s guilt with a shallow apology, and he hightails it out of there, without looking back.

 

The orphanage he comes upon is in an old building. His first thought, while he begins to open the trunk of his small aircraft carrier and snatch up a box, is that it’s still well taken care of. There’s a sector of the Blades that specifically works with orphanages to bring them up to date with regulations. Many of them lacked the resources during the war, rural orphanages are more likely to be a fixer-upper.

 

But this one, whoever owns it, has really put in the effort. He’s particularly pleased by the large garden beside the building, and the grassy area next to it that’s been utilized as a playground. He spots a old Altean woman in the front window, who gasps and waves quickly through the window, before she’s outside.

 

“Wonderful to make your acquaintance!” she exclaims, walking right up to him.

 

“Good to meet you too,” he says in return. Without asking if he needs help, the stocky woman grabs one of the boxes. Keith smiles a little, impressed by her gusto.

 

“Follow me, we have a room to drop these off then,” she informs, and they take off, walking side by side.

 

“Get ready,” she warns, an all-knowing grin on her face. Keith turns his head sideways and she laughs. “Visitors are quite rare, the children will be all over you.”

 

“I don’t mind,” he reassures.

 

She’s not lying. They’re like a tidal wave, no, the children are like a tsunami. When Keith and the woman enter, they all scurry off to different places. As Keith and the woman set down the boxes  adjacent to the spacious kitchen, one child, who clearly falls on the side of extroversion, greets Keith with a loud hi and a wide toothy smile.

 

“Hey,” he says in return, and the rest of the children come running. Bouncing. While he’s still just as awkward as making small talk with them, he now enjoys kids. He adjusts his pace to be slower while finishing the work, so the kids can hover around him. They ask rounds of questions, chirping like little birds.

 

Keith isn’t a celebrity, but he is internationally established as a force of nature. Not only as a war hero, but for his huge strides in humanitarian work. Neither Daibazaal or Altea had laws and regulations to force a well-established safety blanket for the less well-off, having just been created again. The Blades stepped in. From partaking in missions like these, to working as lobbyists and running for office, they have expanded into a powerful political force. As a result, the Blades of Marmora are popular and praised.

 

It’s his pride and joy. He loves what he does. Keith wakes up with a smile, and ends most days feeling satisfied. At first, he drowned himself in work, after dealing with a terrible heartbreak. Now, healed (the wound is still tender to the touch), he casually surfs on the surface.

 

After he and the woman, she tells him her name is Sefe, finish, he has a better chance to look around. The interior of the orphanage is rustic, but still maintained. Well-stocked with toys and books. It’s also smaller than some of the others he’s been in, there aren’t more than twenty-five children. With a single woman operating, the amount fits like a glove.

 

One sticks out, and Keith glances over to a thin, bony girl, engrossed in a book. She sits in the back of the playroom. Keith was similar, for the short amount of time he was in an orphanage, waiting for a placement in a foster family. Maybe he’ll try to talk with her later, if she lets him.

 

With the sun set, the stars and moon acting as a replacement, and half of the children put to bed, Keith starts to prepare to leave. But he changes his mind when Sefe asks if he wants dinner leftovers. At the paladin dinner, Keith picked at his food and only had a bite or two. Plus, this is a good opportunity to make sure the children are eating nutritious, well-cooked meals.

 

Some of the older kids are still awake when Keith gets served a bowl of typical Atlean cuisine, a green goo with spices similar to cumin. He spots the little Altean girl by herself again, nose buried in a book. Keith makes his way over to her, taking a chance.

 

“Hi,” he greets, and waves. She looks up, half of her face covered by the book. It seems like she’s shy. Her skin is a shade or two lighter than Allura’s was, but her eyes are violet, and her hair is down to her waist and black with a blue hue. It’s wavy, and looks like it hasn't seen a brush today.

 

Keith points to the floor next to her. “Can I sit down?” She nods, and after Keith sits and adjusts his feet until he’s comfortable, she scoots a little bit away from him. He notices, and smiles softly at her.

 

She keeps silent while he eats next to her, still reading. An introvert himself, he welcomes the quiet after the nice, but loud onslaught of kids. Maybe he should have brought his wolf for help.

 

“That looks like a good book,” Keith says, trying to engage with her. The girl straightens her back out, and reminds Keith of a Garrison cadet.

 

“It is, Mister.” Is all that Keith gets. She doesn’t move her eyes away from the book.

 

“It’s nice to meet you,” Keith says.

 

“It is also nice to meet you,” she says politely, finally looking over at him. “Mister,” she adds quickly.

 

Keith waves it off. “Keith is fine. What’s your name?”

 

The girl cracks a very small smile, and tries to cover it up with her book. Keith notices that she has prominent dimples. “Nonnille.”

 

Nonnille.

 

“But,” she reaches out and tugs on the fabric of Keith’s sleeve. “Everyone calls me Noil. You can too, Mister.”

 

“Noil?” he says, making sure he says it right. She nods, moves her book lower, and her smile gets a little bigger.

 

“What are you reading?” Keith asks, and she holds her book up. The title is written in Altean, and while he can read Galran, and the common language fluently, Altean still trips him up.

 

“The… Tale with..” Keith squints. Nonnille nods, encouraging him. “With… the space whale?”

 

Nonnille nods once more.

 

“Do you like it?”

 

Her smile becomes forced. “I like it.” It’s obviously a lie, to sound polite. “I am very happy to have books.”

 

“I like reading too,” Keith pauses, thinking it over, and decides to take a chance. This place is nice, filled with love, but Keith observes that it is lacking in books targeted for older children.

 

“Do you want more?” There’s a large market right by where he’s staying. He figures that there has to be a bookstore somewhere. Nonnille’s eyes get bigger. Wordlessly, she nods again, pleased. They don’t talk much more after, but after today, Keith enjoys the quiet. She does tell him goodbye when he stands up to take off. And endearingly wishes him well.

 

That night, he gets a message from Hunk, asking if he’s all right. Immediately, he types back and says that he is. He presses send, before shutting his phone off and turning in for the night.

 

He’s more productive the next day, waking up early. In the morning, he visits the local market on the hunt for books. He manages to get a few decent ones. He isn’t sure what her reading level is, and decides to buy a variety. If there are some she can’t read, he’ll just use them for his own practice.

 

Then, he caves in, and accepts Hunk and Pidge’s lunch offer. Since it’s been a very long eight years, everyone decided to stay for an extra week. When Keith opens his mouth to complain that everyone agreed without him, Hunk and Pidge remind him that he booked it a quarter into dinner.

 

Fair.

 

He books it right after they finish and pay the bill. With the secondhand books secured in a satchel, he returns to the orphanage… Where he learns that he struck out with Nonnille’s reading level. They’re too advanced for her, but she still wants to read them. So, they compromise, and for the next three evenings, Keith stays for dinner and he reads a book with Nonnille, who, by the second day, tells him that her favorite color is yellow, and she likes working in the garden with Sefe. Yesterday, the third day before the sun set, she proudly showed off the garden, listing off the local Altean produce she’s growing right now.

 

On the fourth day of vacation, Keith heads back out to the market while the sun is rising. That’s when the inevitable happens, Shiro bumps into him while Keith is deciding on a book for today.

 

“Haven’t see you too much,” Shiro remarks. If Shiro is upset by it, he doesn’t let it show. Keith shrugs.

 

“I’ve been busy,” he explains, eyeing a book about space pirates. He has Nonnille’s best tastes in mind, she likes adventure and fantasy stories the most. Picking it up and flipping through the pages, he accidentally ignores Shiro, who’s still standing in place.

 

“Practicing Altean?” Shiro inquires, snapping Keith out of his thoughts. He looks up towards Shiro. There’s no point in lying about what he’s been doing, where he’s been going. The worst thing that could happen is Shiro wanting to join him, and Keith highly doubts that.

 

“I’ve been visiting an orphanage on the outskirts of this city,” he explains. “There’s a kid there, we read books together.”

 

“That’s nice of you to do,” Shiro compliments, balancing his weight between either foot. Their conversation is stale. There was a time where they could talk for hours, about nothing. Now, small talk that doesn’t become awkward is an achievement.

 

“Better make sure you don’t end up taking them home with you,” Shiro adds, with that boyish grin of his. The remark, a clear tease, turns Keith to stone.

 

_Taking them home with you._

 

His grip on the book tightens.

 

“Do you want to get lunch today?” He hears Shiro ask him.

 

_Taking them home with you._

 

“Sorry, Shiro, I.” He ushers over the book clerk to check out. “I promised to go there earlier today.”

 

If Shiro spots his lie, he doesn’t let it show.

 

┏(･o･)┛♪┗ (･o･) ┓

 

Around lunch time, he’s back, to the children’s delight. And Sefe’s, this time she makes sure that he helps with preparing lunch. While the kids grab their meals, Sefe approaches him again with a plate.

 

He starts to politely turn it down, when she shakes her head.

 

“Can you take this to Nonnille upstairs? Poor thing, she had a nightmare and isn’t feeling well.”

 

“We don’t know each other very well,” Keith counters, frowning. Wondering if this is overstepping boundaries. He doesn’t want to make the girl uncomfortable around him. Sefe brushes it off.

 

“You’re the first person in a long time to make small talk with her!” she exclaims, patting Keith on the shoulder. “She even showed you the garden, I’ve never seen her do that with anyone.”

 

“I see,” Keith says, taken aback. “Alright.” Something tugs at his heart. Something… he can’t place.

 

Upstairs, she has her own tiny room. Keith finds her there, snuggled up in a pile of blankets. Poor thing looks tired, her face is tense while she sleeps. Keith frowns, unsure if he should leave the food on a nearby desk, or wake her up. He wouldn’t want to be woken up.

 

But, nobody wants to eat cold goo, he knows that from experience.

 

“Nonnille?” Keith says softly, and when she doesn’t respond, he says her name again, louder.

 

As she stirs, he expects that she’ll wake up maybe a little irritated. Probably out of it. He’ll hand off the food, then come get the empty bowl later.

 

Keith does _not_ expect her open her eyes and let out a loud gasp. He thinks he made a mistake, when she sits up, turns her head to see Keith, and slap her face with her hands to cover her face while she lets out a loud wail.

 

“Oh, shit,” he says under his breath. God, did he frighten her? Did she have a nightmare? Keith places the bowl on the desk by her bed and bends down on his knees, making sure that she’s taller than him. Her crying doesn’t let up, she’s still crying, crying so, so hard. Keith reaches out to pat her back, but stops and hovers his hand. Keith is practically a strange to Nonnille. Should he go get help? She lets out another sob, and Keith bites his lip. He knows how to win a fucking war. He doesn’t know how to comfort a child from a nightmare.

 

“Nonnille,” Keith says, he tries to say it so softly. But it doesn’t reach her. He inhales, and exhales.

 

“Noil.” The nickname makes her go quiet. Progress. Keith can work with that. He pushes away… those memories. But right now, he’s relying on what he used to do with Shiro.

 

“It’s okay, Noil,” he wants to cringe. He’s so bad at this. Sometimes, not often, Keith would have nightmares about his dad, when he was young.

 

…. What did he himself need?

 

“I’m… right here. Noil. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

 

She slowly removes her hands from her face. Eyes puffy, with a plugged nose and tears and snot running down her face, she sniffles.

 

“I…” Keith presses his lips together, thinking of how to complete this puzzle. “I brought you food. And a book for today. Do you want me to read to you while you eat?” he asks.

 

She nods, looking better, and Keith exhales in relief. He feels comfortable enough to give her back a few rubs. She sniffles, nose plugged up with snot. She goes to wipe the snot on her blanket. Keith’s eyes widen and he shoots up.

 

“Tissues,” he states. “You need tissues, tissues… where--” There don’t appear to be any. He’ll have to go downstairs.

 

“I will be _right_ back,” he says, but as he turns away, Nonnille grabs his hand, and lightly tugs it. He turns back around, and he sees her frowning, and new tears forming in her eyes. She doesn’t need to say anything, Keith gets it. He sits back down, this time on the edge of her bed. Nonnille scoots closer, and leans forward to lay down on part of Keith’s thigh. More tears drip out of her eyes and they land on Keith’s pants. She sniffs again. Something warm in Keith’s chest forms. He doesn’t want to go anywhere-- it’s, it’s more like he can’t. Keith tentatively rests his hand on top of her head, and pets it a few times.

 

“Good?” he asks quietly. She nods. He exhales in relief. 

 

Roughly an hour passes, Keith spends most of it observing her. Wondering what she dreamt about. Thinking about what will happen the next time it happens. Something is… eating him. Dread. He… doesn’t want to admit it. But…

 

He wants to be here, for her, the next time it happens.

 

The revelation comes up abruptly. If he could, he’d go on a hoverbike ride to think more carefully. Instead, he doing his best and act as this girl’s buoy, keeping her afloat so the deep sea doesn’t bring her down. An hour later, she wakes up. Her face is still puffy, tear stains down her cheeks-- but she isn’t crying anymore.

 

Fortunately, this didn’t upset her stomach. Keith tries his best to read her an Altean book, about a young boy who discovers he has magic powers, while she quietly sits beside him eating. When she finishes, Keith grabs to place it on the desk. She ate up all of the goo in the bowl Keith brought up. Progress. Maybe, just maybe, he isn’t that awful at this.

 

Nonnille starts fidgeting with her hands, looking down. She pipes up, and asks quietly, “Can I braid your hair?”

 

Keith smiles, and ruffles his fingers through his hair. “Of course. Can I braid yours after you finish mine?” Nonnille nods. “We can have matching braids.” She nods a little harder.

 

Sefe comes up after they’ve devoured half of the book, and Keith has successfully managed to hoist the book up somewhere to read it while finishing up the last section of Nonnille’s hair.

 

“Keith, we’re about to start dinner,” she says. He didn’t realize that the sun is almost set. “Do you want to stay?”

 

“Noil,” Sefe addresses. “Did you have fun with Keith?” She nods seriously in response, tight-lipped. “Do you want me to bring up dinner?”

 

“Not Keith?” she asks, voice faltering and looking back and forth between him and Sefe. Sefe shakes her head.

 

“Keith has to leave soon.” The sad look in her eyes makes Keith physically hurt.

 

“Noil, I’ll come up before I leave,” Keith says, ruffling up her hair.

 

Sefe pulls Keith downstairs, looking expectant. He vaguely wonders if she’s a mind reader.

 

“How old is she?” he says softly, making sure only the Sefe next to him could hear him.

 

“Seven phoebs, ah,” she squints, thinking. “Your Earth measurements… seven years of age.”

 

“What’s her story?”

 

“Her parents died in an accident, and her grandmother cared for her until she passed away a year ago.”

 

Being a parent is something he didn’t consider an option for himself.

 

“Keith?” he perks up, looking at her. “You look like you have something on your mind,” Sefe observes.

 

“Does she get nightmares often?”

 

Sefe frowns. Keith’s heart tightens. “Poor thing used to experience them almost every night. It’s diminished, but she still has them. The girl found her grandmother, she has a fear of death. Sometimes, she wets the bed. It’s rare, now. Children… change everything,” Sefe explains. “They need stability. Which means settling down somewhere, especially at her age where she must attend school.”

 

He understands where she’s going with this. Keith’s permanent home is on his ship, but he goes on trips frequently, weeks at a time, sometimes months. Taking on a child would mean he’d have to step down from some of his duties, at least until she grew older. Some blades do raise their children on the ship, but Keith thinks the adjustment would be too much for an Altean who’s lived on a planet with the sun and plants.

 

Earth. He could settle down on Earth. In the shack, that he can easily clean up. Both Pidge and Matt complain that their parents want grandchildren, they’d be great babysitters. Maybe she could join the Garrison, but only if she wanted to--

 

“I’m sorry, Sefe,” Keith says, cutting his own thoughts off. “I think we might have misunderstood each other.”

 

She raises an eyebrow. “I don’t think we have.”

 

He just… can’t get that image out of his head, of her sobbing in her bed. If Keith hadn’t been there, would she have just cried, all by herself?

 

How often has she done it?

 

Keith presses his together. Debating.

 

“What’s the process like, on Altea? I’m only familiar with some parts of Earth, and Daibazaal.”

 

Sefe grins.

 

“There are three payments. A pre-assessment fee, which you’ll pay tonight if you want her with you in two days. We have a forty-eight hour holding period,” Sefe explains. Keith nods, heart sinking a little. But, that’s not that long away. And he can visit anyway.

 

“Then, in two days, there’s another fee you must pay before you take her. After thirty days, there’s the final payment. After that, she’s officially all yours. … But,” her voice raises. “You _are_ Keith Kogane.” Like that answers everything.

 

“I don’t want to bypass the law, because of my status” Keith says, shaking his head.

 

Sefe claps her hands together. “I like that answer,” she says, impressed.

 

“I’ll come back tomorrow morning,” Keith assures.

 

“You can take her for the day, if you want. To test things; Nonnille is a shy little thing, and some days, I don’t see her smiling at all. But she smiles around you, even laughs. She has such a cute laugh!”

 

“Yeah,” Keith agrees, smiling. “She does.”

 

By the time the sun has set, paperwork is done. The Altean version of a check is given. And then, it dawns on him. He never asked what she wants. Panic inches closer to him, what if she doesn’t want to be adopted by him?

 

He should ask-- he’ll go right now. If she doesn’t want to, he doesn’t want to force her. Keith excuses himself, and leaves Sefe’s office to go ask and say goodbye, but he doesn’t spot Nonnille approaching him in the dark, and almost knocks her to the ground with a loud _oof._

 

“Shi-- Shoot,” he says, gently touching her shoulders to make sure she doesn’t fall. “Are you okay?”

 

“I thought you left,” she says quietly, staring at the floor. Her voice sounds a little hoarse.

 

“I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye. Actually, Nonnille I have something to ask you.” Nonnille turns her head up to look at Keith. Keith sinks down to his knees, so they’re near height.

 

“I have to leave Altea soon,” Keith explains, because he might as well be straightforward. Nonnille doesn’t say anything.

 

“... Do you... want to come with me?” he asks. Her eyes widen in disbelief.

 

“I’ve never had a father before,” she says. “Only a grandmother.”

 

“I can be that,” Keith says. “I can be a dad. If, uh, that's alright with you.”

  
  
She tilts her head slightly to the side. “Will I have a mother?”

 

Probably not. Keith’s not interested, and if he has a kid to raise, he figures that he won’t have time to try. He’ll be a single parent, like his dad was. Is that enough? Does she need two parents?

 

“... I’ll be both," Keith says, finding confidence he didn’t know he had prior to this.

 

She smiles, exposing her dimples. “Yes please.”


	2. No more than to be together, I don't want to cheat. Whenever I think back, an answer can't be found.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith leads Shiro back to his room. Just the two of them walking side by side is the most they’ve interacted in years. Keith doesn’t ignore how alien it feels, as Shiro sits in his room, in his space. He wordlessly hands the yellow paper to him.
> 
> Shiro reads it through once, Just like Keith had done, he frowns, and rereads it again to make sure. He takes off his glasses and puts them on the desk in Keith’s room. “God,” he sighs tiredly. “What are the odds.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long. ;; AND I'm sorry this is mostly backstory. I want to get back into this story and update it more often. I’m also sorry if there are any... discrepancies in the story’s timeline. I’m booboo the fool.
> 
> Thank you for your patience!! I promise the next chapter will be waaay sooner. I hope you like it!

The wedding goes as well as a rushed wedding can go. Even with the lofty budget and beautiful weather, the marriage is untrimmed, the edges frayed.

 

At least, to the other paladins, it seems like that.

 

Lance had hopes, in the beginning, but one hour into the reception, he realizes that Voltron might have really fallen apart. An hour more in, and Hunk and Pidge show signs to have silently agreed with him with constantly checking the time and giving each other strained looks. Keith looks so miserable that Lance doesn’t dig at him for the two hours that they’re at the wedding reception. Halfway through hour three, right before Shiro finally makes his over to their table, Lance grabs Keith and bounces.

 

He’s frustrated because weddings are _supposed_ to be full of happiness. This is supposed to be the first big, personal happy event, even after everyone lost Allura. Lance stays tight-lipped the ride to his farmhouse in Cuba but his frustration finally bubbles over as they land and he realizes that Keith’s so drunk he can’t even _walk_ straight. He asks his leader why he sat on this relationship, because Shiro is Keith’s sun, and Keith is Shiro’s stars. They complement each other perfectly and Keith had the love of his life was in his hands, but let it fly away. Lance would have never done that.

 

“It- it doesn’t matter now.” Keith stutters, shrugging and almost tipping over to the side. They’ve both had too much to drink, and Lance doesn’t say anything until he manages to drag Keith’s deadweight inside and into the spare bedroom he has near the entrance of the house. He rolls Keith onto the bed and wipes the sweat off his hot forehead. Keith’s heavier than Lance had originally thought he was. He piles onto the guest bed as well because he has judgement on the tip of his tongue and doesn’t want Keith to be alone. Lance grabs Keith’s shoulders and shakes them.

 

“It does matter!” Lance exclaims. He points at Keith’s chest to wake Keith up from his drunken stupor. “You should have said _something_!”

 

Keith groans and rubs his face. He doesn’t bother to remove Lance’s hands. They’re the only thing that’s holding him upright at this point.

 

“Say what?” Keith hisses, voice smothered in melancholy. His shoulders deflate and curl inwards, making himself seem small, like a flight animal that’s tired of running but doesn’t know how to fight.

 

“Anything!” Lance yells, throwing his hands up. “I had to lose Allura. You didn’t have to lose Shiro.”

 

Keith’s breath hitches, “I lost him.” Lance hasn’t seen Keith this disoriented since after Shiro died in the black lion. Tears begin to drip down Keith’s face. “Shiro doesn’t _care_ .” Keith croaks. Lance sees his adam’s apple bumping wildly. He sniffs. “We’re not-- he’s _changed_ \--”

 

“It takes two to tango!” Lance counters in a burst of frustration, “Shiro can’t read your mind.” Keith puts his face in his hands. “He _loved_ you, but you just _ran--”_

 

“This is all I want,” Keith says breathless, his voice muffled by his hands. It’s a terrible lie. “No more. Please.”

 

Lance stops his barrage when he notices his leader starting to crumble and falls forward into Lance’s chest. He wraps his hands around Keith’s torso instinctively. His weight sags in Lance's arms, and it's almost as if he can feel Keith's sadness, tangled somewhere between them. Galra run warm, Lance notes as he practically embracing Keith at this point.

 

“Let’s get some sleep, buddy.” Lance says, sighing and carefully dropping Keith onto his side. Keith’s already out cold, drooling.

 

Unfortunately, Lance has to find out the hard way that Keith cries in his sleep.

 

His head aches the next morning. By how high the sun is, as it breaks through the window, it might already be the afternoon, but he’s still up in the nick of time to take an incoming VC chat with Hunk.

 

“You two missed breakfast this morning.” Hunk notes with raised eyebrows, frowning.

 

They missed the wedding breakfast.

 

Definitely a statement.

 

Lance looks to the side, like he can escape Hunk’s disapproving stare somehow. He mutters “I know.”

 

“I get it. Last night was, well.” Hunk exhales, “You know.”

 

Lance flashes back to the previous night. He doesn’t remember if he and Keith left before or after Shiro went over to the paladin table to thank them for coming.

 

“--Weird.” Lance fills in.

 

“Yeah,” Hunk agrees nodding. “It’s not every day I see you and Keith getting along. Much less you two… hugging, and.. _Leaving together_.”

 

His implication makes Lance gag dramatically. Waking up beside Keith already set off his heebie-jeebies. Everyone thinking that they did more than sleep side by side makes his hungover stomach lurch.

 

“Oh come _on_ Hunk, you really think I’m gonna be the friends with benefits guy for Mr. Self-Destruction?” Everyone’s already aware that Matt has filled in for that role since the engagement was announced. “Mullet’s a sec away from being the next Nagasaki!”

 

“ _Lance_ ,” Hunk scolds, admonished at his crude comparison. “ _Not cool_ , dude.”

 

“Okay, fine, sorry, you know what I mean,” Lance says, a sharp hangover-fueled headache starting to wash over him.

 

“I do,” Hunk says, withered. He looks just as emotionally drained as Lance feels.

 

The falling out between the once Admiral of the ATLAS and the Commander of Voltron has rippled through all of the paladins, displacing them, knocking them off track. Shiro and Keith falling out has put him, Hunk and Pidge in the middle of what seems like an unofficial divorce. Neither seem aware of the damage they’re causing everyone else.

 

“Don’t tell anyone I told you this-” Hunk cautiously glances around like an eavesdropper might be hiding. He’s probably thinking of Keith, “-but Pidge told me last night that even _Matt_ has his doubts about Shiro’s marriage.”

 

Matt was Shiro’s best man. After Keith turned it down.

 

Lance grimaces, “Yikes.”

 

“ _Big_ yikes,” Hunk sighs, leaning forward in an obvious attempt to study Lance’s location. “You two at the farm? On Earth?”

 

“Yep. Keith’s in the next room over. Why?”

 

“Room for one more?” Hunk asks with a soft smile. “Brunch?”

 

Lance grins madly. “Hunk, my man.” He finger guns. “There’s always room for one more if it’s you!”

 

The paladins never quite recover. Everyone puts in a good effort to try and at least sand down the cracks and rough patches. Every annual dinner on New Altea goes smoothly. They still have good times. No one is immature enough to bring up past problems despite how someone probably needs to bring them up and work them out.

 

Shiro’s marriage lasts longer than Lance had bet on it. It comes to end _right_ before the fifth annual paladin dinner.

 

“Shiro’s getting a divorce!” Lance chirps while chatting with Keith on one of their rare video calls. He video chats with Keith, once a month, usually. (Hunk gets less and Shiro gets none. But Pidge somehow gets twice a month.) “A big ol’ D. Pidge said she saw it coming two years into the marriage.”

 

Keith crosses his arms. His face is unreadable. Ever since Keith began hanging out with Galra more and humans less, he’s really closed himself off, flaunting isolation like it’s something to be proud of.

 

“Huh.” Is all Keith says, his tone carefully neutral.

 

“Well?” Lance says expectantly. “This is great!"

 

Keith tilts his head. “...It is?”

 

“Shiro’s...” Lance deflates and tries again. “He’s getting a divorce?”

 

“I know,” Keith says, partially annoyed. “You just told me. My hearing and memory are just fine.”

 

“Now’s... your chance?”

 

Keith’s shoulders straighten. “That’s what you meant,” he says faintly. Keith looks away from Lance, his eyes suddenly glued to the ground.

 

This wasn’t what he expected. Why does he look so sad and lost?

 

“Keith? Buddy? Braidy? Broski? Knock knock!” Lance hits the screen with his knuckles twice. “You there?”

 

“Lance,” Keith addresses, peeved.

 

Lance raises an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’ve given up.”

 

Keith doesn’t react. He doesn’t nod or shake his head. Nothing flickers across his face. All he does is rushed inhale and exhale.

 

“Things change,” Keith says matter-of-factly. His voice is confident now and doesn’t waver. “I stopped living in the past. I have more important things to deal with now. I don’t care. And I _don’t_ want to talk about this anymore.”

 

Lance sighs. Stubborn. “Mullet, _braidy boy_ , don’t just give up like this--”

 

“I have to _go_ ,” Keith firmly states and moves forward to press ‘end call’.

 

Lance opens his mouth to protest more and Keith cuts him off with an impatient “Good- _bye,_ Lance.” The screen flashes to black and Lance is left staring at a reflection of himself.

 

Two years slowly trickle by and the unstable paladin dynamics shifts once again. Keith has become even more cryptic, but he seems happier. Shiro rejoins the Garrison and is scared of rejection from Keith. Pidge is secretly dating someone. Coran’s smile only sometimes reaches his eyes. Hunk works day in and day out.

 

Lance travels between Earth and the newly formed Altea frequently. He tells everyone he wants to see Coran more and keep him company. It’s not a lie, but there’s something about the _essence_ of Altea that Lance keeps coming back to, like it’s calling for him. The air he breathes on Altea makes him feel at home. Earth has felt like a second home since the war ended, for an inexplicable reason. Perhaps it’s the markings Allura left him.

 

\------

 

It’s… a little overwhelming, Keith thinks as he reaches his room. His adrenaline makes his chest tighten and breathing that’s a bit quicker than he’d like it to be.

 

He decides to do what every adult does, whenever they’re faced with the aftermath of a life-changing decision.

 

Call his mom.

 

His space wolf settles in on the right side of his bed, snoring. Krolia picks up on the first and before she can greet him, he blurts everything out, rambling on until she stops him.

 

“You’ll be fine,” Krolia interrupts to reassure, in between bites of what is probably her lunch. “Remember when Nadtok became ill and you looked after her son? You did a fantastic job. Her son is very attached to her but in your arms, he didn’t cry once.”

 

“Babysitting is different from having a kid,” Keith counters. Krolia squints and puts what looks like chopsticks down.

 

“Little Love, I know children can be a handful, but you do not _sit_ on them,” she scolds.

 

“I didn’t sit on anyone’s kid,” Keith explains. “It means to look after one.”

 

Krolia sighs in relief.

 

“Thank goodness.” She smiles. “Nadtok and I are close. If she knew that you sat on her son things may become tense in my unit.”

  
  
“Just.” Keith runs a hand through his scalp. “What if I screw something up?”

 

“Parents aren’t perfect,” Krolia munches. “I’m not perfect, I wasn’t involved in your childhood at all. But, I did what I had to do to protect you. I would do anything to protect you. As long as you love your child and would do anything to protect them, everything will work out.”

 

Keith raises an eyebrow, frowning, his chest still tight and worried. “Didn’t Honevera say the same thing?”

 

“Did she now,” Krolia muses. She shakes her head, laughing a little. “As long as you don’t try to destroy the entire universe, you’ll do great. Everything will be fine. I promise, little love.”

 

\------

 

Back in his room, Lance lays on the hospital-clean twin bed. staring aimlessly at the ceiling decorated with a painting. A sharp knock wakes him from his half-asleep daze. He had drunk a bit too much at the annual dinner this year, it seems, as a headache blooms from the shark knocks on the door. His face mask has dried out and it cracks. Some fall down his face.

 

“Hold on!” Lance calls, getting up and tightening his bathrobe. It’s probably Hunk, who always gets sappy and seeks out company after dark. He’s surprised then, when it’s none other than braidy boy. The only thing that doesn’t surprise him is the troubled frown on his face.

 

Great.

 

“To whom _st_ do I owe the pleasure of seeing our fearless leader, especially at this hour?” He asks, with a touch of snark. And that works, Keith rolls his eyes.

 

“I knew going to you first was a bad idea,” Keith says cooly and starts to turn away.

 

Lance grabs his shoulder. “Hold on now, mullet.” Old habits never die. “First, Hunk’s probably sleeping like a box of rocks. Second, if you tell him? _Everyone_ will know by breakfast tomorrow.”

 

Keith bites his lip, looking as cornered as a skittish wild animal. He sighs and drops the tight posture in his shoulders.

 

“I have news.” Is all Keith says while stepping into Lance’s room and closing the door. Lance heads to the attached bathroom to wash his dry mask off.

 

“News,” Lance repeats between splashing his face with water and rubbing his face clean. When he finishes he pats around for a facecloth that Keith hands him.

 

“Thanks,” Lance says, and Keith shrugs wordlessly.

 

“Alright, braidy-boy,” Lance fills the silence while patting his face dry,“what’s got you looking so sour? Did something happen with Shiro?” And there it is - that sparks surprise in Keith’s face.

 

He shakes his head quickly. “No. Why would you think that?”

 

Because everyone besides him sees how Shiro looks at him and wants to kick the bucket every time they see it?

 

“No reason,” Lance lies. No need to play matchmaker with those two anymore. Only Hunk still has a tad bit of hope left. “Well? Spill it.”

 

“I’m… I need your help.”

 

Oh shit. Maybe Keith does need help with his repressed feelings-- finally. Has the day of reckoning finally dawned upon them?

 

“You know how I’ve been visiting that orphanage?” Keith starts fidgeting with his braid.

 

“I… do,” Lance eyes him suspiciously. Then, something does dawn on him, something that doesn’t relate to Shiro. Given the context of this conversation, this something is so obvious.

 

But the concept is just as ridiculous as it is obvious.

 

“What, you taking one home or something?” he lightly asks. Keith freezes up. A silent confirmation.

 

“You’re-- you’re just trying to pull a fast one on me,” Lance says, stuttering. The look on Keith’s face isn’t his lying face. He grabs both of his shoulders and shakes Keith. “You’re going to be a dad? _A dad?_ You’re going to be a dad?” Lance squawks, his hands in the arm gesturing wildly.

 

I’m not lying,” Keith says.

 

“I can’t believe you beat us all to it,” Lance exclaims. “I put my money on Hunk. I thought it was going to be you and Kosmo for the rest of your life. Maybe Shiro added in, if he gets his shit together.”

 

Keith grabs Lance’s hands to pull them off of him. “Do you want everyone to hear you?” he hisses, face reddened. Oh yeah, right. Hunk is next door, and Shiro is across from them. “Can we please get back on topic?” Keith begs.

 

“What is a man supposed to do when the emotionally repressed mullet leader decides to adopt a kid? Oh, girl or boy?”

 

“Girl.”

 

Lance grimaces, “Don’t tell me you’re moving back to that shack on Earth.”

  
  
“What’s wrong with my house?” Keith snaps, his volume louder than Lance’s outburst. He puts his hands on his hips. “Mom and I renovated it a few years back! It’s a perfectly good place to live in.”

 

Sheesh. “Okay, okay.” Lance puts his hands up. “Sorry, also, wasn’t one of us yelled at for being too loud?”

 

Keith sighs. “Sorry,” he says, his voice suddenly tired.

 

“You’re good, man,” Lance says. “So is that all?”

 

“I might need help,” Keith says, looking away. “I don’t know much about kids, and you and Hunk have nieces and nephews.”

  
  
“Awww, buddy ol’ pal,” Lance walks forward and wraps an arm around Keith’s shoulders. “All you had to do was ask if you need Uncle Lance’s help!” He pushes his luck and pokes at Keith’s face. Keith gives him dagger eyes.

 

“I take it back,” he grumbles. “I only want Hunk’s help.” But there’s real bite to his words, so Lance doesn’t even think about taking it to heart.

 

“No take backs now,” Lance responds haughtily. “You’ll need all the help you can get. Can’t let the former emo kid’s kid follow in her father’s footsteps.

 

”Thanks, Lance. For everything.”

 

He’s still not used to Keith’s praise. Sometimes when Lance really sits down and thinks about it, he’s hit with the realization of just how strange it is that the two of them are closer than Keith and Shiro are right now. Keith probably hasn’t smiled at Shiro like this for years. It doesn’t sit right with Lance, it feels strange as if the scales have been tipped in a way that they really should now - light planets out of alignment.

 

But Lance gave up trying to meddle in their strained relationship. For once, Keith _wants_ his help. Isn’t that just great?

 

“You got any pics? Lemme see my niece.”

 

\------

 

Keith doesn’t drink to forget. At least, that’s what he tells himself. It’s been six and a half months since Shiro’s wedding. The feeling in his chest, the part of his heart that’s been hastily carved out, has been nearly unbearable. Over time things like this are supposed to heal over, even if the wounds scar- but he hasn’t healed. If anything, the cut has gone deeper.

 

He isolates himself further and further. Missions with Blade members and get-togethers with other paladins have become frighteningly scarce. The person he interacts with the most is his mother, who rightly suspects that something isn’t quite right.

 

 _What’s wrong?_ Her concerned looks and frowns nonverbally ask him whenever they see each other.

 

What’s wrong is that he has nightmares that make him wake up yelling. Whenever he sleeps he relives the terrors he had to face during the war. Surprisingly his fight with Shiro’s clone only makes up some of the dreams, a fraction of the grand total. He has nightmares about battles with druids, losing Allura, and going head to head with Zarkon. He sees the deceased and ask why he didn’t save them. Ulaz. Thace. Countless Blade members. Allura. Even Adam. They ridicule him and tear him apart like vultures.

 

Once it was all Shiro. But it was the Shiro with hair the color that makes him look soft and angelic. It was the Shiro he saw six and a half months ago. He was violated physically and mentally. After that particular dream, he ruined the bed sheets with dinner he had eaten, and he couldn’t get the taste of bile out of his mouth for hours.

 

Going to bed drunk helps fight them off. That’s why he drinks. Not to forget but as a way to defend himself from his mind.

 

The afternoon after a rough night of sleep,  Keith fights a killer hangover and his mother spots him walking from the command center to a scheduled meeting. She pulls him away from it with an excuse.

 

“We need to talk.” She puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

 

“You’re struggling,” Krolia says point blank when they reach her living quarters. There’s no reason in trying to cover up and lie to her, and even if he tried, in this state he doubts he’d be successful.

 

“You’re right,” Keith says simply. “I am, Mom.”

 

“As your father once said to me, the weakest part of a chain is as strong as the entire chain is.”

  
  
Keith tilts his head and squints, trying to translate the broken saying in his head.

 

_A chain is only as strong as its weakest link._

 

“I’m sorry,” he hears himself say unthinkingly. His mother crosses her arms and frowns.

 

“I may be your commander, but I am your mother first,” Krolia says. “There’s no reason to apologize to me, Keith.” Krolia rests her arms and sits beside Keith. “You are performing your duties well. Your commander thinks you’re doing well. But your mother doesn’t see you smile anymore.”  
  
Her concern makes his chest feel warm. She _cares._

 

“I’m smiling now,” Keith reassures, quirking up the corners of his mouth. It’s easier than he thought it would be. It’s easy in general, around her.

 

“And I love seeing it,” Krolia says, smiling back. “I want to see it all of the time, not just these rare occasions. I think I know what this is about… your relationship with Shiro is strained, yes?”

  
  
She’s sharp as a tack. Keith nods.

 

“It isn’t _just_ Shiro,” he says. “It’s everything.”

 

“Everything?”

  
  
Keith breathes out.  “I have nightmares from fighting in the war for so long and losing so many people,” he admits. “I haven’t been sleeping. Sometimes, I think back to something that happened during the war _while_ I’m doing something.”

 

He thinks back to every time a camera goes off and flashes and how it reminds him of the flashes of laser beams that would attack him while he would pilot his lion. If someone straddles him while training his breathing quickens while he hears his heartbeat thundering in his ears. His latest dreams have been an onslaught of Keith fighting against Shiro’s clone. This time they’re at Shiro’s wedding. In these dreams, Keith doesn’t win and “ _I love you_ ” doesn’t work.

  
  
“Flashbacks,” his mom corrects. Keith nods.

 

“Yeah. That,” Keith says. “The war is over. I don’t know why I’m having these... flashbacks.”

  
  
“The Galra have a similar illness,” she says. “It can be deadly if left untreated. Do humans have something similar?”

  
  
“Post-traumatic stress disorder. PTSD. But, Mom.” Keith shakes his head. “I don’t have that. The fight is over. It’ll get better.”

  
  
Krolia shakes her head. “The war was won two years ago.”

  
  
Keith has nothing to say to that.

 

“Whatever is going on, I want you to see someone to talk to.”

 

“A therapist?” Keith asks in shock. “I. Am I that bad?”

  
  
“You are doing your best,” Krolia says with a firm tone. “I am so proud of you and I’m so lucky to have you. It’s okay to get help, little love.”

 

“I’ll think about it.”

 

“Thank you,” Krolia says. She ruffles the top of his head. His mother doesn’t show physical affection often. Keith’s well-aware that for Krolia, this is a very serious matter. “I must leave for a briefing. Please, if you’re comfortable, let me know. I want to help you. I love you, Keith.”

 

“I love you too,” Keith says.

 

She leaves and takes off through the self-sliding door.

 

Back along with his thoughts, embarrassment bubbles in his stomach.

 

“Get ahold of yourself, Kogane,” Keith mutters to himself, biting the tip of his thumb with his front teeth. The skin won’t break but it will leave a temporary dent. Maybe even a bruise, if he’s lucky. Just something to remind himself that he needs to get control of this.

 

He’ll do it, he’ll work hard and get better. For his mother’s sake, at least for now.

 

\------

 

That night, Keith can hardly stay asleep for longer than a few hours. Still bleary-eyed, he’s up for good before the sun rises. It’s too early to head out while it’s dark, and with his space wolf still splayed out on Keith’s bed, he decides to wander around where they have been staying. This trip was an anomaly. The trips prior to this, he had flown out the night of. It’s a vast villa, most of it built of clean marble. It went up less than a year after the war ended. Supposedly, it was built based off of Coran’s memory of what the royal family’s estate looked like.

 

The paladins are huddled together in a corner on the third floor, the highest being the fourth. Coran always raves that the large patio area on the ground floor is an excellent reading spot. The mornings on Altea are brisk even in the summer, usually with a cool breeze sweeping across the land. Galra run hot, though, so he settles on not bothering to layer up and heads down the large main staircase in just a t-shirt.

 

He spots Shiro sitting in the patio. He has his own book and Keith makes out that it’s written in Japanese. It’s not the only thing Keith sees as Shiro sits oblivious to Keith’s presence. He thought that Pidge’s under eyes were dark but Shiro’s look darker. He’s not surprised. As long as Keith has known him Shiro’s always been a light sleeper, only getting a few sporadic hours a night. It only got worse after Kerberos. Keith will never forget the night terrors that plagued him when they were closer. Their ferocity would wake Keith up despite the distance between their rooms within the castle.

 

Every time he’d throw his blankets off to knock on Shiro’s door, Shiro would either say that nothing is wrong or pretend to fall back to sleep. It was strange how closed-off he was about it, especially after how open Shiro was before he left for Kerberos. Keith’s almost begs for more transparency often went unheard. Maybe it was naivety from being in his youth but looking back as an adult, that was one of the first warning signs that they were to steady drift apart from one another.

 

Now they’re so far apart that if Keith were to walk up and ask Shiro if he had a night terror, he would be pushing their boundaries. Before the war ended, their closeness (Keith still doesn’t know what was platonic and what wasn’t, the lines had been blurred so often.) was reduced to occasional cordial exchanges and a strong attempt to continue what was left of their friendship. The trying, the looking back, grasping at some sort of long-lost hope appears now to have been one-sided on Keith’s part.

 

During the first year of Shiro’s marriage, they didn’t talk once. Keith had sent messages once in a while and never heard back. He unintentionally followed Shiro’s footsteps _again_ and swallowed himself up in work.

 

No one said anything about it. No one addressed it. Keith and Shiro’s relationship was the elephant in the room, whenever anyone managed to wrangle them together in the same room. Then as Lance still dramatically calls it, the “big d” happened, two years ago, now. Keith had his doubts that it’d be finalized because, at least to Keith, Shiro never seemed like the sort of man to give up.

 

Then Shiro showed up without Curtis. Then Keith learned from Axca that he was back at the Garrison. He had moved out and now he lives on his own near the base. He still has his cats, apparently.

 

He’s purposefully made sure his interactions with Shiro are lukewarm at best and indifferent at worse. Shiro talks about his cats as a conversation starter as well as an ender. Keith adds how his space wolf is doing. That’s good enough for him, Keith tells himself, that’s all he needs from Shiro, the small talk about absolutely nothing at all.

 

Shiro finally notices Keith standing off to the side and throws him a tired smile.

 

“Can’t sleep either?” Shiro calls out. Keith approaches closer, nodding.

 

“I’ve just been thinking about things,” Keith says, keeping it vague. He remembers Lance’s advice from last night and decides that the best course of action is to force himself to sit beside Shiro on the patio, in the matching yellow wooden chair.

 

“Yeah?” Shiro raises an eyebrow. He doesn’t dive into it any further. They fall into a quick silence until Shiro tries again. “I saw you on TV the other day,” he blurts.

 

Keith perks up. “You did?” He doesn’t recall any recent interviews. Frowning in confusion he asks, “What was I doing?”

 

“A newscaster tried to interview you when you were walking Kosmo,” Shiro says. Keith has to stop himself from bristling at that name. He still _firmly_ believes that his wolf will tell him his name when he’s ready.

 

“And you blew him off completely. Veronica and I saw it live. You remember Kinkade? Ryan?” Keith nods. “He called it, ‘fucking brutal.’”

 

Keith bites back a smirk. It doesn’t jog his memory whatsoever but fuck paparazzi. “There’s nothing to interview me for. Anyone can read what we’re doing on our website. Someone even started a podcast.”

 

“Right,” Shiro agrees, yawning after, like sleep might finally be a viable possibility. Silence falls on them heavily, like a sucker punch to the gut - talking to Shiro used to be so easy and carefree. Keith is about to excuse himself and leave, he’s a fraction of a second away from calling it quits and going back to his bed where he can lie and stare at the ceiling for as long as it takes until the sun rises completely.

 

Maybe Shiro sees how flighty Keith is all of a sudden, and wants Keith to stay. Or, it’s just that he wants to fill the uncomfortable, tense silence, because he starts back up rather suddenly. “What are you doing today?” He asks, setting his book aside. “Tomorrow is the last day here. Where are you going after this trip?”

  
  
“I’ll be down in the marketplace today,” Keith says, skipping around the reason why and ignoring the second question.

 

“Sounds fun, doing what?”

 

“Uh. Shopping.”

  
  
“Oh,” Shiro says, perking up. “For what?”

  
  
“Uh. Clothes. Some books. Shoes, probably.”

  
  
“Do you need any help?” Shiro asks while raising a brow. “Are you buying souvenirs?”

 

“Uh. I _guess._ ”

 

Shiro shrugs. “You don’t have to lie.”

  
  
“I’m not. And to answer your other question. I’m going to Earth.”

  
  
Shiro blinks in surprise. “Earth?”

 

“Garrison.”

 

“ _Garrison?”_ Shiro asks in disbelief. _“_ For how long?”

  
  
“A while. I’m moving, actually.” He doesn’t realize he’s fidgeting with his hands. “Gonna settle down, finally.”

 

Shiro doesn’t respond.

 

“What?”

 

“This is so unlike you,” Shiro says. “Keith? Back at the Garrison of all places? I always saw you out in the stars, exploring the galaxy.”

 

“Likewise,” Keith says, curt.

 

Shiro doesn’t entertain the jab. “So, the Garrison. You and your space wolf living in that house in the desert?”

 

At least someone recognizes that it’s a house and not a damn shack.

 

“Yup. Well, kinda.”

 

Shiro leans back in his chair. “Kinda?”

  
  
“Me. Space Wolf. Uh... And a kid.”

 

Shiro’s face turns white as a sheet.

 

“What?” Keith asks, panicked.

 

“A kid.” Shiro deadpans. He looks terrified.

  
  
“Yeah,” Keith stands up. “She’s about,” he puts one of his hands to his hip, “about this tall? Maybe a little shorter. She’s Altean but small for her age.”

 

“... Adopted?”

  
  
“Yeah, of course.” Keith crosses his arms, confused. “Why?”

 

“Oh. _Oh_ . Good.” Shiro exhales in something that sounds like relief. Keith tilts his head and narrows his eyes. “I mean!” he exclaims, flustered. “That’s, that’s good. _Good._ You’ll be a good dad. The best dad.”

 

“I don’t know about that,” Keith bites his bottom lip, uncertain. His eyes trail to the floor. “I don’t know what I’m doing.” He admits.

 

Shiro waves it off. “You’ll have all of us there to help. I don’t think Matt or Pidge are having kids any time soon; you’ll have to be careful. Colleen and Sam will want to steal her. Do you have a picture of her?”

 

Keith does, Sefe took it. It’s a picture of them showing off their matching braids. He nods, and scrambles to find it in his phone. People showing pictures of their kids, God, it used to annoy him. But now? He gets it, because Nonnille is the cutest kid in the entire universe.

 

“This is her,” he says, handing the phone to Shiro, with a proud grin. “Her name’s Nonnille.”

 

“She looks like you,” Shiro remarks, peering closer.

 

“I thought the same thing,” Keith muses.  
  
“She’s cute. Real cute. You really are gonna have to be careful of Sam and Colleen.”

 

“That’ll be good.” This time, Shiro looks confused. “Big families are nice.”

 

“Yeah,” Shiro says, looking wistful. Keith’s gut twists. “I think so too.”

 

\------

 

He finds out that his daughter caught something similar to a cold that had spread throughout the orphanage. Paperwork delivered to him explains more of her medical history and origin.

 

Undeterred, Keith launches himself into the marketplace to browse around. Arizona is hot and far away. Having clothes from her home planet might help make the change easier. (At least that’s what his new parenting book says.

 

But he realizes that he really is in over his head in this. Clothes traditionally targeted at young boys are easy to decipher. Shorts, T-shirts, pants, and sweaters are the staples. Clothes targeted towards young girls are an entirely different ballpark.

 

For one, skirts and dresses are added. As well as leggings to put on underneath them. Which means more color coordination. A vendor tells Keith that some girls don’t like to even wear skirts and dresses. A customer chimes in that their daughter only wants to wear them. Romelle spots him and delightfully takes over and orders him around. He doesn’t know what he’s doing and on top of that, he misses Romelle quite a bit when he’s traveling so he follows all of her commands.

 

As the sun begins to display the early signs of setting, Romelle takes off and Keith sits by himself surrounded by shopping bags. Allura’s memorial statue looms over him, casting the massive shadow that he sits under, now. Every year he likes to swing by the memorial and talk about everything that’s going on. Even if Allura isn’t listening, it still offers a quiet sense of comfort.

 

“I still can’t believe it,” Keith says to the statue. “Her markings are like yours. I wish you could see her. Romelle and I went shopping for new clothes and both of us wished you had been there. I wish you were here. Maybe things would have turned out different if you were.”

 

He gets up and pats the dirt off of the back of his jeans. Stretching his back out he looks up at her statue again.

 

“I have to go now.” Keith grabs the shopping bags and before he turns to leave, he throws a small wave in her direction.

 

The walk back to the villa is short. Keith makes a beeline to his room, tired out from the hustle and bustle of crowded markets and catching up with others. He makes it to the hallway his room is on undetected and as he approaches the door he spots a bulk of stacked papers.

 

He doesn’t think it’s necessary to keep his door locked throughout the day, not when you have a space wolf who’s in the perimeter. Sure enough, as Keith turns the doorknob and pushes the door open, his wolf is here with a wagging tail and excited pants. Keith notions to the shopping bags and Kosmo gently grabs them with his teeth, letting Keith grab the stack of papers.

 

The paper on top says that it’s all of his daughter’s records. Everything that he’ll need for official records and to top it off, it looks like some of her family backstories are stored at the bottom. He sets it all on the desk in his room.

 

His space wolf whines as Keith sits down at the desk, his tail whaps against the wall.

 

“I’m sorry bud,” Keith says sympathetically. “Didn’t mean to stay out all day. After I look through these we can go for a run.”

 

That pleases the large wolf, who barks once in joy and then rolls to the floor in content. The motion shakes the room a little. Keith bends down from his chair to get him a few good scritches on his tummy before sitting back up.

\------

She has the same rowdy black hair and pink facial markings as her dad. But besides that, she looks a lot like her mother, Keith decides while looking at a picture of her parents.

Besides her birth certificate, health information, and a few pictures of her parents and grandmother, Keith thinks he’s read through everything, before he stumbles across a report stashed away at the bottom of the pile. It’s crinkled and yellowed from age, saved throughout the years.

 

His stomach drops reading through it. He thinks he may have read it incorrectly, so he looks over it one more time.

 

Someone else _needs_ to know about this, anyone. Hunk, Lance, Pidge- no. Maybe Coran? Coran knows more about Altean customs and mindsets than anyone else. Keith ponders on this, and he isn’t paying enough attention as he turns around the corner and bumps into a broad chest with an _oomf_.

 

“You’re in a hurry,” Shiro remarks while looking down, amused.

 

“Shiro.” Keith blinks.

 

“Hey,” Shiro greets and then drops his smile. “...You okay? You look nervous.”

 

“I found something out about my kid,” Keith says abruptly. “About her parents.” He’s painfully aware of how fragile he sounds right now, broken and so distant from what the Blades had spent so long trying to ingrain into him.

 

But they aren’t close and he expects Shiro to deflect and suggest that Keith find someone else. Keith’s close to high tailing it out of here himself.

 

“Show me?” Shiro asks. The request makes Keith forget his despair for a moment and instead blinks at him, blankly. Shiro doesn’t add an insecure, ‘ _but only if you want to_ ,’ either. This request is unwavering, bold for what their relationship has become.

 

“Okay,” Keith answers faintly, because who is he to refuse Shiro’s kindness, even after everything that’s happened between them. “I’ll show you everything.”

 

The end of the war wasn’t synonymous with a happy ending. Resentful Alteans who cursed both Voltron and Allura’s names, even going as far to label her as a traitor. They tried to start an uprising two years after the war ended. It was a poor attempt, and after they were surrounded, the Alteans who wouldn’t drop their weapons were neutralized easily. The families of those slain were too ashamed to collect their bodies. They were buried in a marked grave several miles away from the capital.

 

Keith leads Shiro back to his room. Just the two of them walking side by side is the most they’ve interacted in years. Keith doesn’t ignore how alien it feels, as Shiro sits in his room, in his space. He wordlessly hands the yellow paper to him.

 

Shiro reads it through once, Just like Keith had done, he frowns, and rereads it again to make sure. He takes off his glasses and puts them on the desk in Keith’s room. “God,” he sighs tiredly. “What are the odds.”

 

“Sefe told me it was an accident,” Keith says. “I should have been more cautious. I should have asked more questions.”

 

“Keith, there was no way you could have known about this,” Shiro says in an attempt to comfort him. “Does she know?”

 

“No. She told me she never had parents before. It was just her grandmother raising her. In a diary entry that Sefe sent over, she wrote that her grandmother took her every year to the capital, where they would pay respects to Allura.”

 

“She was trying to make sure her granddaughter didn’t follow in her parents’ footsteps.”

 

“Right,” Keith confirms quietly.

 

Shiro leans forward to study his face. “Have you been crying?”

 

The question is too personal. Keith doesn’t answer it directly.

 

“Her parents hated us.” Keith runs his fingers through his hair. Shiro’s eyes trailing the waves of his black hair as it falls doesn’t go unnoticed, and at any other time that alone would have made Keith smile. “They hated _me_. The leader of Voltron. And they left their daughter alone, to die for it. What do I tell her when she asks?” he asks hoarsely.

 

“The truth. But Keith, that wasn’t your fault. She won’t hate you.”

 

Keith brings his head up to meet Shiro’s comforting eyes, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. “How do you know?” _We barely know each other now_ , he wants to add, but he holds back from saying it.

  
“Who could hate you?” There’s that Garrison golden boy grin again, and Keith feels like he did all those years ago as a cadet, staring up at Shiro’s smile. “Fatherhood has already turned you into a sap.”

 

Keith sighs but he’s smiling helplessly. “Hey, wait until it happens to you,” he teases back nonchalantly.

 

Instead of teasing back like he would have done almost a decade ago, Shiro freezes. Fuck. He shouldn’t have said something insensitive, not when this has been a breakthrough in rebuilding their friendship.

 

Pidge told him after the divorce finalized that Shiro and Curtis were thinking of extending their family. She also told Keith that she thought that was the catalyst to the end of their marriage.

 

Then she let Keith know what else she thought ended it. He went to train after the call and nearly broke his blade in two from his unforgiving grip on it. The fear he had had since the first time Curtis looked at him after the wedding may have had been more than just his paranoia.

 

He’s still afraid of the possibility that Shiro’s lament feelings towards him strained his marriage. That maybe Shiro’s fraternal affections weren’t actually that in the first place.

 

Keith will always remember the strange tension between him and Shiro’s husband. Curtis would greet Keith and smile at him, but it never reached his eyes. Despite the space that Shiro first laid down and then Keith added onto, nothing seemed to satisfy whatever Curtis felt towards him. Shiro never commented on it and Keith tried to pretend that everything was okay.

 

If he was still Keith from the desert, he would have confronted Curtis directly to ask what his problem was. He would have told Curtis that he was completely over Shiro and show proof. But he hasn’t been Keith from the desert in a long, long time. Years of experience in diplomacy and finding enough confidence to call himself the black paladin-- a war hero turned into an intergalactic recognized humanitarian figure has whipped him into a leader to look up to.

 

This version of himself knew and still knows better than that. Instead, he’s kept his distance and given others the benefit of the doubt. He tries to make his smile reach his eyes and use inviting body language. It has kept the peace but Keith’s questions are still unanswered.

 

As Shiro excuses himself, Keith, the leader of the paladins and in intergalactic humanitarian work, wonders if maybe he should have held onto a small part of that Keith from the desert.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Shiro!!! I promise this isn’t a Shiro hate fic. ;; I like Curtis too when he’s paired with Keith!!! I hope you enjoyed! <3


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